


Utter Fanservice

by orphan_account



Category: SHINee, SuperM, UNIQ, the untamed
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Everyone Is Gay, I had fun, M/M, Mentioned Kim Jonghyun, Smut, Super M - Freeform, Taeyong is a hurricane of goodness, Xiao Zhan wants his didi to be happy, the untamed is mentioned, there is pining, two idols meet and realise they really like one another, uniq mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:02:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22792939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Yibo and Taemin's management decide to make them do a concert together, or rather, just one show.  Yibo REALLY likes Taemin.  Taemin REALLY likes Yibo.  There's ice cream and smut, pining and crying.  I am sorry.I realise they aren't the usual ships but in my mind they work.
Relationships: Lee Taemin/wang yibo, Wang Yi Bo/Xiao Zhan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	1. Hot Hot Hot

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my friend Tiffany. We both fell in love with Taemin, and when her son saw Taemin dancing he turned to her and said: Taemin and Yibo have to dance together. So I took it further and wrote smut.

Chapter 1  
Hot Hot Hot 

Yibo felt skittish. There was a fire under his skin and his head was full of noise. This was how he felt ahead of every show, admittedly, but tonight there was an extra element that was making him feel like he was burning up from the inside out.

He was alone in his dressing room. Everyone had left. He’d made them leave. He needed to think, to breathe, to ground himself. He thought about Xiao Zhan, about his friend’s steady hand on his shoulder, sitting with him when things got too much on set, reminding him to slow his heart, to imagine himself somewhere he didn’t feel the crush of the crowd. 

He paced, shaking his hands out, working the tension out of his wrists. He stretched and popped his shoulders. He needed to focus. If only he could cultivate, he thought to himself with a grin. If only he could fully channel Lan Zan, he’d be okay. 

A knock came on the door and opened. The sound technician was there, showing him his headset, mike and the small box that will tuck into the back of his jeans. Yibo waited impassively as he was wired up. Even this far backstage, he could hear the roar of the crowd outside. They’d come not only to see him, but to see several other bands perform. The stadium was huge but tonight was different. Tonight he goes up with Taemin. 

Their respective agents set it up, working it out between them, thinking it would be something the crowd would lap up. They took it to the show’s producers who loved the idea and the management team backed them 100%. 

Yibo was well known, and with each video that hit YouTube his followers grew. His popularity on the back of playing Lan Zan in The Untamed had skyrocketed him into all kinds of awards and show appearances. He was sought after and feted by everyone. Taemin, on the other hand, was stratospheric, gorgeous and it made complete sense to pair the up and coming star and the older established star together. Especially as they were listed to take part in the same show. Taemin as part of SuperM and Yibo by himself as a solo act. But then, things changed again. And now he was collaborating with Taemin. 

Yibo thought they were taking a risk. There had been no rehearsal for them. Teamin’s schedule didn’t allow for it. So he’s being sent on stage to sing with Teamin and dance with him, and it was going to be a fucking nightmare, he knew it. He was perfectionist. He knew Teamin was too. He’s watched enough of his videos and behind the scenes stuff to know that the man worked hard and got it right. If they fucked up tonight, both their reputations would be damaged. 

They had spoken a week before. It had been awkward. They were in different time zones and Teamin had just woken up from a sleep when he called Yibo. His voice was rough, scratchy. 

“Hey, listen.” There was the sound of movement and a deep sigh from someone in the background. “Sorry, I’m a mess. It’s 3 in the morning here and we crashed. I’m sorry I’ve not been able to call sooner.”  
Yibo found himself swallowing hard. “No, it’s fine. I’m glad we could talk before the, you know, the show.”  
“Fucking agents, man.” Teamin’s voice was low, raspy and intimate. “Can’t live with them and can’t kill them, am I right?”  
Yibo didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t good with small talk. “So, the show?” He offered. “What are your thoughts?”  
“Yibo, huying, what can I say? I’m excited. I watched your new year show. It was sexy as hell. I think we do something with water. I like the idea of getting you wet.”  
Yibo thought his heart would stop. “What.”  
Teamin’s laughter was low. “Yeah, water. I’ll get it arranged. Maybe some fire too.”  
Yibo was lost. “Fire?”  
“It’s going to look fantastic. I need you,” Teamin’s voice went deep and there was the sound of fabric and possibly the sound of skin on skin over the phone. “To decide what song you want to perform.”  
“Want.” Yibo licked his dry lips. “I want to perform Want with you.”  
His words must have surprised Taemin because for a few seconds there’s silence on the line.  
“Are you sure? You don’t want to Danger with me?”  
Yibo felt his heart flip. Taemin’s seen the video of him dancing to Danger. Fuck. But no. Not Danger, definitely, Want. Yibo closed his eyes, knowing Tae’s dance movements like he’d taught them to him himself. He’d watched the music video and the rehearsal video a million times, at least.  
“Yes, I’m sure. It’s Want or I walk away.”  
“Yibo. So bossy. I like it.” Taemin’s voice was teasing and held a note of hunger that Yibo wasn’t sure what to do with. “Do you want to tell me what you want to do?”  
For a moment Yibo was convinced they weren’t talking about the same thing at all. He looked at his phone to make sure it hadn’t suddenly switched to video.  
“Not right now? I’m still working on it.”  
“Hmm, colour me very intrigued.” There was the sound of a muffled voice in the background and Taemin’s chuckle followed by a soft groan. “I have to go Yibo, something - oh yes, your mouth just like that - has come up.”  
Yibo felt himself blush. Taemin was having sex with someone whilst they were in the phone! His grip tightened on his phone and he found his voice just gone. All coherent thought left his brain.  
“Yibo?”  
“Tae…Taemin?”  
“Think about me when you go to bed tonight. I know I’m thinking about you right now.” The ‘right now’ came out in a low gasp.  
Yibo didn’t even hang up. He just dropped the phone on the table and walked out of the room. 

They had a few more calls like that, with Taemin just about toeing the line of decency, teasing, hinting, suggesting. It was as if he knew exactly which of Yibo’s buttons to push. Yibo tried to keep it professional, eye on the prize but he found himself working that frustration out on the dance floor and not a few times in the shower imagining how much damage he could do if he ever got his hands on Taemin. 

“You’re with me. Five minutes,” one of the stage hands called out when he saw Yibo. “Super M are just finishing their set.”

He followed the stage hand who was chattering on his headset and heard something along the lines of “sure, I’ll let him wait,” and then the stage hand stopped him with a hand held up. Yibo hung back. He disliked being touched by strangers, even in the most casual way. 

“What’s going on?”  
“Taeyong wants to talk to you.”  
Yibo shifted, immediately irritable. He didn’t have time right now for these kids and their insecurities. Before he could do anything further, the members of Super M came running off the stage, laughing and high from being on-stage. The boy at the front recognised Yibo first and he yelled over his shoulder to his bandmates.  
“Fucking Lan Zhan, you guys!”  
Suddenly Yibo was amongst them all, and there were hands everywhere, shaking his, hugs and shouting. His composure broke at their unadulterated joy and he grinned, stepping back, not sure what to do under the onslaught and noise.  
“Come on, don’t mess me up before I go on stage.”  
“Man, we loved you in Uniq, Yibo.”  
“..the new year’s concert, woah, smokin’ hot.”  
“But you were even hotter in The Untamed, right?” This was from Kai and he was grinning and his eyes twinkled. “So repressed. He just needed to bang his ge-ge.”  
“Oh god, stop with your stupid fantasies, Kai,” Mark yelled and dragged his friend away.  
Yibo flushed a little. If only they knew, he thought to himself. If only they knew how he yearned for most of the filming of that series.  
Another wrangler came up to drag them away but Taeyong lingered, catching Yibo’s arm in a tight grip. He was surprised to see the small elven man glare up at him.  
“Be nice to him out there tonight,” he said, his voice low. “Tae is nervous. He’s never nervous. Don’t wreck this for anyone.”  
Yibo felt his back straighten under the boy’s gaze. He closed the distance between them and took advantage of being taller. He held his gaze. “I’m a professional,” he replied. “I’ve been doing this for a long time and I do no make mistakes.”  
Taeyong gave him a long hard look, with something mixed in at the back of his eyes and Yibo wondered what the dynamics were between him and Taemin. His nod was almost respectful and when he stepped away from Yibo it was done with a slow drag of his eyes up and down his lean form.  
“They’re going to love you. You look like you’ve already fucked.” Taeyong said and then he leered at him and Yibo felt that look like a punch to the gut. “But we’ll catch up after the show and talk more.”  
“Sure.” Loose and easy. “I’ll see you guys later.”  
His stage hand snapped his fingers and Yibo fell in behind him. He took his place behind the stage, knowing that Taemin is just out of sight. They’ll rise to the stage together and hopefully things won’t go badly for either of them. 

They rose to a completely blacked out stag and arena. Yibo adjusted his headset slightly, taking a breath. The stadium was lit with glowsticks and the noise in general was pretty spectacular. 

A single spotlight focused on the middle of the stage, highlighting the lone figure standing there. Yibo felt his mouth go dry at the sight of Taemin. He was dressed in his red suit that made his Want video so hot. The crowd went wild before the first beat even started up. Taemin he just stood there, a solid presence on the stage, a god made flesh, letting the crowd adore him. Yibo was in awe of his showmanship. 

Taemin started moving the moment the first thunderous synth beat pumps through the speakers. He moved the way sex felt, Yibo thought. Yibo knows how effortlessly he moves, how his stylised movements would look stupid on anyone else without the inherent grace that made Taemin such an incredible artist. 

Taemin’s dancers come on stage and dance with him and they’re good, but they’re not that good. Yibo waits for his moment. The crowd is going wild singing the lyrics to WANT back at Taemin. He gets his cue and starts rapping, providing a counterpoint to Taemin’s lush vocals and sensual moves. The rap is an answer to the lyrics of Want and he wrote them himself. He worked with the sound engineer and they practiced it at the studio for days on end until Yibo lived and breathed the song, the words, Taemin’s beats, how he breathes and the moves. 

“Yeah, oh yeah,  
You say I want you  
But can you say  
You’re unaffected?”

There was a moment when the audience had no idea what was going on. Then he’s revealed, standing in a cage to the side of the massive stage. Once the crowd realized it’s a collab and who he was, and that he was there to sing with Taemin, they roared their approval. The noise from the crowd could easily power the entire eastern seaboard of China, the energy was that electric. 

Where Taemin looked cool and arrogant in his red suit, Yibo looked debauched. He was dressed in skinny black ripped jeans, combat boots and a leather jacket. The t-shirt he wears under the jacket is too big, ripped like someone had tried to get at him. His make-up wasn’t subtle and his mouth was puffy and his lipstick smeared. The cameras showed a close up of his face and he tilted his head back as he raps, running a hand down his face, neck and chest and abdomen, before curling suggestively towards his groin. 

Taemin turned to look at him, never missing a beat. His movements like silk. Yibo moved back, away from Taemin stalking towards him, making sure to devour him with his eyes. There’s an answering spark in Taemin’s eyes and he moves closer, lazy like a tiger stalking its prey. 

“If you’re so dangerous  
Why are you  
Here, with me?”

There’s a smirk on Taemin’s face. The crowd is lapping it up. Taemin stalks the cage and Yibo finds himself unwilling to look away. He’s aware of the cameras on him. He has to make this work and look good. He’s aware that only part of the want on his face is pretend but he doesn’t care. He was on stage with Taemin. 

He freestyled to the beat as Taemin sang, coming to the side of the cage where the cage door was, wrenching it open. 

“I know you want this  
I know you want to

Yibo’s moved to just-just inside the door now. He made his voice go low and breathy as Taemin reaches into the cage. 

Walk away  
But I won’t let you.”

Taemin’s hand grips the lapel of his biker jacket and pulls him out with ridiculous ease. Yibo allows himself to be manhandled, resisting just enough to make Taemin’s eyes flash dangerously. For a second he stands motionless beside Taemin and then he undulates his body, as if gripped by something other. He puts his hand on Taemin’s shoulder, gives him a slow wink, and falls into the dance alongside Taemin. 

The crowd is going insane and he can sense Taemin’s approval. They move on the stage together, him rapping his words in perfect sync with Taemin, mirroring the singer’s sinuous movements, right down to the graceful arch of his back and shoulders. 

They stalked the stage together, dancers flanking them. 

Open your eyes  
Listen to my voice  
You’re my toy  
Lose your self control 

Hot hot hot  
Teasing you slowly

Yibo knows his voice compliments Taemin’s, it’s gruffer, less silky and like the whole show tonight, it gives the audience exactly what they want. 

They finish standing millimeters apart, chests heaving, eye fucking as they both sing ‘thirsting for more’. The fireworks were blinding when they go off and Yibo laughed at that but Teamin drags a look down at Yibo’s open mouth before leaning in and whispering in his ear: ‘wait for it’. And as Teamin brought his elegantly poised arm down, he grabbed Yibo’s wrist with the other and spins him to face the roaring crowd. And then there’s water falling onto the stage and the crowd erupts. 

“Yibo!” Taemin shouted over the roar, raising both their arms, spreading his other arm wide. He stood there, lapping it up and turned to look at Yibo, his face open and laughing. Yibo knew he was in trouble when looked at those full lips and saw the heat in the other man’s eyes. It was with difficulty that he looked away, smiling at the crowd. 

Backstage it’s chaos. Another act was ready to go on and apart from more leather, make-up and chains, Yibo had no idea who they were. He knew he has to get away to his dressing room. He had to get out of his wet clothes, get the make-up off his face, mount his bike and ride as fast and as far as he can away from Taemin. His hands were shaking and he felt dizzy. 

He knew he liked Taemin. What he had not expected was the visceral reaction to being near him. It wasn’t just his looks, which was devastating up close, it was his physicality that knocked the wind out of Yibo’s sails. Taemin was shorter than him, but he loomed larger than he actually was and the way he worked the crowd, leaving them screaming his name, made Yibo’s heart knock wildly against his rib-cage. He’d never had a reaction to anyone like this before and it left him feeling uncomfortable, hot and confused. 

He was aware of Taemin somewhere behind him, stopping to talk to someone and he lengthened his stride to get away from him. 

He got to his dressing room and pressed the door closed with a sigh of relief. It was small but he didn’t care. He didn’t have to share with anyone else and it’s the one luxury he always asked his management team to sort out for him. His people were there and they help him undress, used to working with an anxious Yibo, knowing exactly what to do. He’s given a dressing gown to put on and someone rubs his hair dry. Someone else was there to take his make-up off. It wasn’t even thirty minutes since he walked (definitely not ran) off the stage and he’s dressed in his bike leathers, helmet in his hand. Pulling open the door came face to face with Taemin standing there, arm resting against the door jamb. He was dressed in relaxed, slightly baggy blue jeans, a black polo neck jumper that emphasised his wide shoulders and tapering waist. His leather jacket didn’t look dissimilar to the one Yibo was wearing on stage. He was still wearing his stage make-up and his eyes were dark and heavy as they sweep over Yibo’s lean frame.


	2. Chapter 2

“Running away?” He cocked his head to the side as his teeth lightly bit into his lower lip, before he spoke again. “Are you scared of me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Yibo said and he silently congratulated himself for being able to speak coherently. “I have somewhere to be.” The lie was easy. Anyone else would have taken in his cold tone, his don’t touch me attitude and the thousand yard stare he’d cultivated over seven years in the industry and backed off. But Taemin blew past that entirely, and went for the kill. 

“Can I come with?” Taemin leaned his head against his forearm, bringing his face closer to Yibo’s. His eyes were so dark and heavy with something, a hunger and a need, that it scrambled Yibo’s brain. Yibo could only stare for a few long moments, his entire body aware of how close Taemin was, how much he craved him. 

With a valiant effort, Yibo found his words. “I didn’t drive here,” he said, holding up his helmet. “I came by bike.”  
“It’s okay, I borrowed a helmet.”  
Yibo frowned. The fuck? He borrowed a helmet? How’d he know he rode his bike over?   
“I’m not good with people,” Yibo said. “After a show. I can’t…”  
“Can’t what?” Taemin was somehow even closer than before. His eyes were heavily lined with eyeliner and they were staring at him with a burning intensity.   
Yibo forced himself to stay still and not move away from the other man. He wasn’t backing away from him. He knew how these games went. “Dammit, Tae,” he said, his eyes skimming the expanse of the man’s shoulders before letting his eyes rest briefly on his lips. “I really am not good company tonight.”

“I don’t care,” Taemin says, so softly his voice is barely audible. “I want to be with you.” 

Yibo wasn’t sure how to react to that or Taemin’s presence. He’d not come down from the performance yet and it’s obvious that Taemin was still buzzing too. He could see it in the overly aggressive stance of the man facing him, in the way his eyes rake over Yibo as if he wanted to devour him. But Yibo knew for sure that this is not what he wanted. Correction, Yibo wanted so desperately, definitely, nothing more than to get Taemin naked and whimpering his name, but not when they are both keyed up, in a mindspace where they are likely to hurt one another. 

It felt like an aeon before he spoke again. “If I do let you come with me, Tae,” he said, not sure if anyone actually ever called him that. “You will not, under any circumstances, try and fuck me, is that clear?” It costs Yibo a lot to say that but he doesn’t break eye contact with Taemin. He watched as his frank words take a few moments to sink into Taemin’s head. A confused frown pulled his eyebrows together and his lips part in a soft gasp.

“You don’t…?” Taemin pushed away from the door. “I’m sorry, I thought…”

“I didn’t say you can’t come with me, Tae, but I’m not going to fuck you. Or let you fuck me.” Yibo suddenly gave a wry grin. “No fucking. Not tonight anyway. But you can still come along. It’s entirely up to you. But I warn you now, it’s going to be boring.”

There was a silence so long that Yibo thought he should have relented, not cockblocked himself. But slowly, almost imperceptibly, Taemin nodded.

“Yeah, okay.” His voice was husky. “Let’s go.”

The helmet he picked up off the floor is not something he’d borrowed, Yibo was sure of it. It looked brand new. They walk side by side towards the back exit of the stadium

“Have you been on the back of a bike before?” Yibo asked him as they near his bike. He’s seen the MV’s where bikes were featured in the past, but having one on set and actually riding it, isn’t the same thing. His bike was huge, a monster, and he grinned in anticipation of opening her up on the highway.

“It depends on what you mean ‘on the back of a bike’, Yibo.”

Yibo could feel the flush spread up his neck. “Seriously, Taemin.” 

Taemin’s shoulders shook in silent mirth and he nudged Yibo in the ribs. “Yeah, unbelievably, I’ve been on a bike – both as passenger and rider.”

“Well, that’s good to know. So I won’t have to go through the safety aspect with you.”

“What are tonight’s plans then?” Taemin raised his shoulders as he fitted the bottom of his jacket’s zip bits together to drew the zip up. “Private party with some investors? Hitting a club anonymously and dancing until you pass out?”

“Going home, having a shower, having dinner.” Yibo glanced at him. “Some Netflix maybe, then bed. I’ve got a meeting with my agent tomorrow.”

“This is what your ‘things to do’ was about?” Taemin’s expression was incredulous.

“You don’t have to come with me.” Yibo stopped in his tracks and gave him a look. “I’m sure your bandmates have something or someone planned for the rest of the night if you’d rather leave. I’m not forcing you to come with me. You do have options.”

“No, it’s just not…” Taemin shook his head. His bangs were in his eyes and he looked less the sex god and more the devilish imp. “No, it’s fine. Lets go.”

Yibo knew the man was older than him, and yet he suddenly felt far older. He knew that his dislike of people and his hatred of being in crowds was completely contrary to what people would assume idols wanted. In his Uniq days, when they toured, his brothers made sure to care for him, shielding him as much as they could. He had been the youngest and could get away with it and he knew they kept him away from a lot of the negative things that went down with some of the other groups. Watching Taemin now, he wondered exactly what his debut was like with SHINee.

He zipped up his jacket and put his helmet on and watched Taemin do the same. He focused on his slender fingers fiddling with the chin strap and took a steadying breath. No sex, Yibo. Just hanging out. He nodded to himself. He had a plan. 

Once Taemin had his helmet on, Yibo, out of habit he knocked their helmets together, before fishing the keys out of his pocket and mounted his bike before kicking it off the stand. Taemin settled behind him, his feet resting on the pegs. 

“You have to put your arms around my waist,” Yibo said over his shoulder. “I like to go fast and I don’t want you falling off the back. I can’t have packs of your Shawols coming after me. I’m too young and pretty to die.”

Taemin snorted and slid forward on the seat where he’d kept a space between them and gingerly put his arms around Yibo’s waist. His lean jeanclad thighs pressed lightly against Yibo’s.

“Like this.” It wasn’t a question. 

Yibo swallowed against the sudden dryness in his throat. “Perfect.”

He gunned the engine, flipped his visor down and they were off. The best thing about leaving a concert when it wasn’t done yet, was being able to get onto the highway clear of traffic. Conscious of his passenger, Yibo didn’t weave through the traffic as much as he usually did, but he still went faster than he ought to have. He loved riding, and the roads were superb. If he had his way he’d ride all night, but he was crashing and burning, and he knew he needed to get home and rest. How much rest he’d get with Taemin, he had no idea. He was hyperaware of the man leaning against him, of the lightly muscled arms around his waist. They fit together well, is not the thought he should be having, he decided, using his clutch to slow down once they neared the apartment block his management company kept several apartments for when their bigger idols were in town.

He used the keycode access to gain entrance to the basement and stopped near the lifts. Taemin got off first, leggy and graceful, as Yibo pulled the bike onto its stand.

“That was fun,” Taemin said and he sounded sincere. He pulled his helmet off and looked for all the world like sin made flesh. His hair was tousled and he had a grin on his face that made his lips look very soft and enticing. How is it that he can get off a bike and stand with such careless grace, and just exude sex? Yibo had to look away before Taemin could catch him staring and busied himself with locking the bike and pocketing the keys.

Taemin followed Yibo into the lift and stood closer than he ought to, their shoulders brushing. Yibo swiped the security scanner and put in the code for his floor.

“Penthouse?”

Yibo nodded and Taemin hummed in approval. “Nice. They got us staying nearby, this huge sprawling place complete with a pool.”

Yibo found himself wanting to ask if they had to share rooms and if so, who did Taemin have to share with, but he held back. It wasn’t something he could think about, not when he had seen the SuperM guys earlier and how cute they were. He knew from experience how living with a group of guys broke down inhibitions.

“Do you do this every time you have a show? Come back to your apartment?” Taemin’s shoulder pressed against his a little harder. “Alone.”

“No, not always alone.” Yibo smirked at the small sound of surprise from Taemin. 

“I’m not the first?”

As Yibo answered, the lift doors open and he walked out, talking over his shoulder. “Not even close, Tae. Not even close.”

He sheds his jacket and dumped his helmet on a convenient table and walked into the rest of the apartment. Floor to ceiling windows gave tremendous views of the Seoul skyline. They’re pretty high up, around sixty floors. The penthouse was a large open plan affair with a mezzanine floor above and a wraparound balcony. The downstairs held the lounge / dining / entertainment area and large kitchen. Upstairs was the master bedroom and bathroom. 

“Beer?” Yibo asked as he opened the fridge. “Or do you want wine? Or champagne?”  
“Beer’s good,” Taemin answered, taking a seat at the breakfast bar. “Thanks.”

Yibo twisted the lids off both bottles and handed one to Taemin who’s gaze moved around the kitchen and then the rest of the apartment approvingly. 

“You must be doing well for them to give this to you.”

Yibo shrugged. “The security is good which is what I like. The fans don’t know about these apartments so the likelihood of me having to hide my face when I come and go doesn’t become an issue. I prefer it much more to sharing a house with a bunch of guys. My Uniq brothers were noisy as hell. You never got a minute’s privacy.”

Taemin was nodding. “Yeah, I get it.” He toyed with the beer bottle and slanted a look at Yibo. “What, why are you laughing?”

“I’m just surprised? Party King of the KPop world?”

“Even a party king needs some down time.” The words were quiet, honest, surprising Yibo who was expecting more front, more aggressiveness. But then he saw the wicked grin on Taemin’s face and sighed.

“You are incorrigible, Lee Taemin,” he said and hated that he sounded like Lan Zhan. He took another swig of his beer before putting it down. “I’m heading upstairs to shower.” He walked into the lounge area and flicked on a few dim lights. “I won’t be long.” He pretended not to watch Taemin watch him head upstairs with a thoughtful expression on his face.

The shower was large and contrary to what he told Taemin, Yibo took his time. Water revived him, the same way riding fast on his bike did. He let the heat of the water work out the tension in his body, calming his nerves. He washed his hair and flicked the taps off and reached for his towel only to find a fully clothed Taemin holding it where he leaned against the basin, his legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. 

Yibo took a step back into the shower in surprise. “What?”  
“You honestly don’t want to fuck tonight?” Taemin’s gaze was hot as he raked it over the miles of Yibo’s wet skin. “Because you are…” his eyelids fluttered. “Very tempting. I could try and seduce you.”  
“Tae,” Yibo said, finding his voice. “Not like this, not when you’re him and not you.”  
“Him?” Taemin focused on Yibo’s face. The effort was truly valiant. “Him, who?”  
“Him, Taemin, the idol, the super star.” Yibo left the safety of the shower and reached for the towel, his hands trembling slightly. Their fingers met and Taemin gasped, his eyes widening at the spark. “You are so gorgeous, you know that? You are a wet dream come to life when you are up there on stage. You’re someone else, someone untouchable. And I know that you wind down by fucking anyone that comes near you after a show.” Yibo was standing so close to Taemin that he could see how fast the pulse was in his neck. Taemin looked high but Yibo knew Taemin didn’t do drugs. Those full lips were so close to his and all he had to do was tilt his head, just a little, to taste him. But he made himself that promise, to hold back and he would. He leaned back a fraction, licking his suddenly dry lips and Taemin tracked it, a look of pure need in his eyes. “That fantasy is not who I want in my bed, as tempting as this might be.” He reached out a hand and ran it along Taemin’s jaw, his thumb lightly pressing against Taemin’s bottom lip, before dropping his hand. “I think I would prefer to bed Taemin the man, not the idol.”

“I’ll let you shower. There are more towels, various products.” He gestured around the bathroom. “Help yourself.”

He left Taemin standing in the bathroom wondering what exactly he had just done and if he’d blown any chance he might have had with the guy.

He went downstairs and warmed the food the restaurant housed in the building had sent up earlier in the evening. The mundaness of putting food out, helped him. The adrenalin that fired him before and on stage was slowly leaving his body, making him ravenous. He finished another beer and turned the sound system on. He linked it to his phone and chose a random playlist from there and when he turned around, Taemin was standing at the bottom of the stairs.

Yibo let out a soft breath. He’d left out clothes for Taemin to wear, a pair of sweatpants and one of his old t-shirts. The t-shirt had been big on Yibo but it fit Taemin a little too well, stretching over his shoulders, showcasing his strong neck and jawline. He was barefoot and his hair was wet from the shower. He’d scrubbed the make-up off and Yibo stared at him, feeling something lift in him. 

Taemin shifted from one foot to the other, a faint blush on his cheeks. “The shower was great. And uh, thanks,” he said, plucking at the t-shirt. “For the clothes. It’s thoughtful of you. I’ll replace them, of course.”

Yibo waved a hand to show it didn’t matter. “Come, I had food sent up earlier. I hope you’re hungry. They always send to much food. It’s like they think I’m having an orgy.” He realised what he said and closed his eyes. “That is not what I meant.”

“Sure, Yibo. I’ve learned that it’s always the quiet ones.” There was a sweetly teasing tone in Taemin’s voice and Yibo couldn’t help but grin. 

“Shut up and eat, Tae.”  
Taemin settles down at the breakfast bar, tucking his feet around the bar of the stool, his posture perfect. It’s such a simple movement but Yibo watched him, fascinated. His every move was studied, graceful. The way he bent over the dishes, to see what they were, the curve of his spine, the angled line of his jaw. Taemin was beautiful.   
Yibo has had crushes in the past but he has never yearned to touch anyone as much in his entire life.   
“Do you have a preference?” Taemin asked, almost catching Yibo staring at him. “I’m happy to share all the dishes.”  
“Uh, no, you go ahead.” Yibo pulls the stool to the other side of the island so they could sit opposite one another. “Choose what you want. I’m happy with everything here.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes, and it was a comfortable, friendly silence. Yibo found himself watching Taemin nibble on this and that and he had to force himself to look away from those soft lips and those long fingers.   
“How’re you feeling?” Taemin asked him, unexpectedly, dishing some soup for himself. “You looked a bit wild earlier tonight, after the show. You ran away so fast I thought you were just going to get on your bike and go.”  
Yibo almost snorted at that. He looked wild? Taemin had obviously not ever looked at himself in the mirror after a concert. But then he realized Taemin was asking an honest question and felt bad.   
“I’m…better, thank you for asking. Tonight was..tonight was bad for me. I don’t know why. Nerves maybe? I was honestly worried about fucking up. We’ve never performed together before so, the fact that I didn’t faceplant doing any of your ridiculous moves was a win.”  
“You did incredibly well. How long did you practice with Joon?”   
“He let me have a day. He’s a tough guy, your choreographer, and we worked for maybe nine, ten hours?”  
Taemin nodded. “He works me hard, but we’ve known one another for years. He rang me, afterwards. Told me not to be worried. That you wouldn’t let me down on stage tonight.”  
“Oh.” Yibo coloured. “Well, that’s nice.”  
Taemin laughed. “He doesn’t even compliment me, Wang Yibo, so the fuck knows what you did to impress him.”  
Yibo ducked his head and gave an embarrassed laugh. “Oh what, like you ever have issues dancing or singing?”  
They smiled quietly at one another and went back to eating for a bit. Yibo liked this, he liked seeing Taemin opposite him, looking more settled and not twitchy. He brought out two more beers and took a swig.   
“It wasn’t always easy. I used to get stage fright. When I was in training and then debuted.” Taemin picked at the food in his bowl, careful to keep his attention on his away from Yibo’s face. “It used to be so bad I’d throw up before every show. My brothers looked after me. Jonghyun helped me a lot. I mean, the others did too, obviously, but he was always there, making sure his little maknae was okay.”  
Yibo didn’t know what to say. He had not met any of the SHINee team members before. He’d only heard about Jonghyun’s death but he’d been so busy himself, he’d never had the chance to stop and think about how it impacted members of the team.   
“I’m sorry. You must miss him very much.”  
“Sometimes…” Taemin’s voice was so soft, Yibo had to lean forward to hear him. “Sometimes it hurts so much I can’t breathe. And the only way I can breathe is to be close to someone.”  
“Shit.” Yibo wanted to reach out and hold him, but he didn’t trust himself. He knew if he took Taemin in his arms he’d be lost and all his self-control would be for nothing. “Taemin, I’m more sorry than you can imagine.”  
“Eh.” Taemin drew a deep breath and blinked rapidly, wiping at the tear making its way down his cheek. “Yeah, okay. How did you manage this? I never talk about personal shit like this. Fuck.”  
“Don’t ever apologise about missing a good friend you lost too soon.” Yibo sat forward and caught Taemin’s gaze. “Not to me, anyway. You don’t have to pretend.”  
Taemin dipped his head between hunched shoulders. Yibo watched him gather himself together. It took a while but eventually he looked up and their eyes met for a long moment. Yibo had no idea what to do with himself, so he sat back against the low back of the stool, putting more distance between them on purpose. The look on Taemin’s face was carefully shuttered but there was a softness to him now. The aggression had lessened, and he looked sweeter, happier.   
“Wow, so yeah, that got a bit heavy without meaning to. Clearly you are a bad influence, Yibo.”   
“I’ve been told, now eat your vegetables.”   
Taemin snorted and started laughing, leaning back in his chair, hand clutching at his stomach, unaware of the appealing picture he made. “I’m not sure if I want you to kiss me or mother me, dongsaeng, but I think I’ll be happy either way.”   
Yibo couldn’t help the grin on his face and spoke without thinking. “Well, I’m not sure if I want to kiss you or lock you up and hide you from the rest of the world, so I think we’re even.” What. Oh shit. “That is not what I was wanting to say at all.” There wasn’t a hole big enough in the entire earth that could swallow him, his crush and flaming face all at once.   
“Well.” Taemin was laughing a little. “This is turning out to be quite the whiplash night for me. Being turned down, also complimented, then turned down again, then fed whilst sobbing, then told someone wants to kidnap me and hold me against my will? What other deviant behavior are you hiding, Yibo?”  
“Being with me is a riot. You better run now, whilst you still can.” The best way out of this, Yibo decided was to just go with it.   
“I can’t run,” Taemin said gesturing with his sticks. “You’ve got my clothes and it’s cold out.” But he said it so seriously and logically, as if Yibo was being really stupid about it. Yibo stared at him and burst out laughing, surprising himself. He shook with laughter and had to hold onto the counter to stop himself from falling over.   
“Okay, after dinner you can run away if you like.”  
There was a beat where Taemin watched him laugh, his expression fond. He gave Yibo a soft smile, head slightly turned to the side. “Can I also stay?”  
Yibo stilled and stared at that smile. “If you like.”  
Taemin actually hummed in contentment, a secret smile curling around his full mouth. They finished dinner and Yibo stacked the plates in the dishwasher whilst Taemin padded over to the lounge with the tv. He found the remotes and turned the music off whilst trying to figure out which remote worked with the tv.   
“So, are we watching some quiz show or have you decided on Netflix,” and when Yibo glanced over at him, he winked elaborately, making his voice breathy. “and chill?”  
“Clearly, you do not want dessert.”   
A pretty flush crept up Taemin’s neck and his lashes flutter. “But dessert is my favourite.” He delivers it with a pout and Yibo thought his heart was going to stop.   
“Find something to watch on Netflix. Stop being distracting.”  
And overly dramatic sigh greets him from the lounge and Yibo smiles to himself. He liked this Taemin. He was a little nervous, definitely not the idol from the stage, but there was still the melodrama, the teeth behind the smiles and the words. He pulled the fridge open and dug the dessert out, found two spoons and carried it over to where Taemin’s taken over the couch.   
“Dessert?” He handed Taemin a tub of Ben & Jerry’s and nudged his leg with his knee. “Come on, you’ve got to share space.”  
Taemin moved his legs to his chest and waited until Yibo sits down before plonking his feet on his lap with a cheeky grin.   
“I love ice cream,” Taemin told him solemnly. “Ice cream and hot chocolate.”   
“Me too.”   
Yibo popped the lid off his tub and pushed the spoon in. It barely moved. “Too hard, we’ll have to wait.”  
“But hard is good, it means you get to eat around the edges first and work your way in.”  
The two of them stilled at the same time before the giggles start. Yibo can feel himself blushing but remarkably, Taemin had gone bright red and was shaking with laughter, hiding his face behind his hands.   
“We are so smooth,” Taemin choked out.   
“Is this why we’re single?” Yibo countered and they laugh harder.   
If Yibo was honest, this was not how he thought any evening with Taemin would end. Still letting out a random giggle now and again, Taemin finds the Netflix app on the tv and chooses a random American TV show to watch, about a conman who teams up with an FBI agent to catch other conmen. They watch half an episode in silence.   
“He is so gorgeous in this,” Taemin said in a dreamy voice. “He has such great eyes. And a great ass.”  
“Shut up, I’m watching the show.”   
“Is this Gusu rules, then?” Taemin asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “No talking?”  
“You watched the show?” Yibo was surprised by this.   
“Loved the show. Me and my hyuings have watched it,” Taemin held up a hand trying to count on his fingers. “So many times, I can’t even remember.”  
“Are you kidding?”  
“Nope.” Taemin successfully managed a scoop of his ice cream and stick the spoon in his mouth, his lips wrapping around the handle pulling it slowly out. The sigh he gives as he swallows the chocolate ice cream goes straight to Yibo’s groin. “Half the guys want to bang poor Wei Wuxian and the other half want to bang the stoic Lan Zhan. Kai, by the way, really fucking fancies you. You can be glad I’m the only here tonight. He’d be all over you.”  
There’s a noise like rushing water in Yibo’s head.   
“And you?”  
“Oh, definitely Xue Yang,” Taemin said without missing a beat. He pulled his legs off Yibo’s lap and sat cross legged on the couch, facing him. “The actor is so…” he twirled the spoon before sticking it into the ice cream again. “Lush and manages to convey the character’s personality so well. He’s always at war with himself. The duality of it intrigues me. The first kindness he’s been shown in years is by his sworn enemy. And he just holds back killing him. You can see how he’s so torn, falling in love with Xiao Xingchen, but he’s also just desperate to prove that he is the most evil asshole you’ll ever come across too.” He sucks on the spoon again, oblivious to Yibo staring at him. “It’s fantastic. I loved it.”  
“I could introduce you to the actor?” Yibo ventures, trying not to hate himself. “If you wanted to?”  
Taemin looked up from where he was digging in his tub of ice cream. “Why?”  
“If you like him?”  
Taemin laughed, shaking his head. “No, no. It’s fine. Honestly, I’ll just make a fool of myself.”  
Yibo dug out some of his own ice cream and hummed around the spoon.   
“Well, if you change your mind, just let me know.”   
“Yibo?”  
“Taemin?”  
“Can I try some of your ice cream?”  
Yibo catches Taemin’s eye and using his own spoon, digs out a large scoop and holds it up for him to see.   
“Can’t reach,” Taemin pouts. “Come closer.”  
“You have to work for it, Tae.”  
Something flares in his gaze and he sits upright, straightening his spine and lifting his chin. With great care he places his tub of ice cream on the floor, leaving the spoon stuck upright. And then he lifts himself onto his knees and slowly crawls towards Yibo, making the short distance between them seem much further away. Yibo watches him, the exaggerated care with which he moves, rolling his shoulders, the way he dips his head, the almost submissive arch of his neck, letting his hair drop into his face. Yibo knows he shouldn’t be toying with fire, but he can’t help himself. He holds the spoon still, feeling some of the ice cream melting and dipping down the handle onto his knuckles.   
“Like this?” Taemin asked, when he was close enough that Yibo could feel the heat from his breath on his face. Yibo gave a quiet nod and watched, fascinated, as Taemin lowered those beautiful eyes and pouts. “You’re messing,” he says, his voice low. “Can’t have that. I’ll have to clean that up.”  
He settled on his heels and gripped Yibo’s wrist in his one hand, whilst leaning further forward with the other. Holding Yibo’s gaze, he dipped his head and licked the melted ice cream off Yibo’s knuckles, moaning softly, chasing the run of it up the handle. His tongue is very pink, Yibo mused, helpless in the heat of the moment, watching with bated breath as Taemin licked daintily up the spoon, flattening his tongue as he came to the scoop. Then he raises himself lightly so he could open his mouth wider and take the scoop into his mouth.   
Yibo had never wanted to be a spoon this much in his life.   
Taemin fluttered his lashes, as he sucked on the spoon, hollowing his cheeks. He hummed in appreciation, his gaze hot as he looked slightly down into Yibo’s eyes. He pulled back off the spoon with an audible pop and made no move to wipe away the ice cream that’s smeared across his lips.   
“Yibo?”  
“Tae?” Yibo is shocked that he still had a voice after that little display.   
“I’m glad I came over tonight.”  
Yibo watched, helpless as Taemin took the spoon and ice cream out of his hands and leaned past him so he could put them on the side table.   
“And now I’m going to kiss you and it’s not fucking, so it’s allowed, right?” He waited until he got a nod from Yibo. Taemin raised himself and pulled Yibo closer, away from the armrest. He did it easily, and Yibo has a flashback of Taemin manhandling him out of the cage on stage. He was stronger than he looked and Yibo’s mind went places they ought not to go. Taemin swung his leg over Yibo’s and straddled him but he doesn’t settle down. Instead he stares down at Yibo’s upturned face and gave him a wicked smile.   
“Are you okay?”  
“Are you?”  
“God, yes.” Taemin’s grin was pure victory. He lightly placed his forearms on Yibo’s shoulders before undulating his body down Yibo’s. Yibo couldn’t help but let out a soft groan. He dropped his hands on either side of Taemin’s legs and curled his fingers into fists. He knew that if he put his hands on Taemin, he’d be lost and there would be no turning back.   
Taemin’s lips are cold as they touch his. The kiss was almost chaste, just a light press of their lips together. Taemin’s eyes were open, a wary expression in them, as if he’s expecting Yibo to do something bad. Yibo held very still, watching the gorgeous man in his lap. Taemin leaned forward again, this time pressing another kiss to his lips, this time to the corner of his mouth. He smelled a mix of clean skin, Chocolate Fudge Brownie and Cookie Dough ice cream. His lips were smeared with Yibo’s favourite flavour and before he could stop himself, Yibo opened his mouth slightly and ran his tongue over his own lips. Taemin stilled and watched his tongue intently, before looking him in the eye.   
“Nice,” Yibo says. “You left some for me to taste. Do I get to kiss you back?”  
A light flush settled on Taemin’s cheeks and nodded slightly. “Please,” he gasped leaning forward.   
Yibo took an age to kiss him. He loved that right then Taemin was slightly taller than him,, straddling his lap and that he still wasn’t seated fully, preserving some small space between them. Yibo finds that he really liked it. It was distracting too. He wanted Taemin flush against him but he wanted the other to be in control, he sensed that he somehow needed it. Yibo did not enjoy relinquishing control, but in this instance he was happy to let Taemin have it.   
Yibo brushed his mouth against Taemin’s, exploring the soft fullness of those sinful lips, the taste of them. Taemin was still watching him, from millimeters away. His arms were heavier against Yibo’s shoulders now, and he could feel Taemin’s fingers unconsciously winding themselves in the hair at the back of his skull, tuggling slightly.   
He lightly pressed his nose against Taemin’s, nudging his head to the side a little and when Taemin complied, he kissed him the way he’s wanted to the whole night. He puts everything into the kiss, his frustration, his hunger, his need to feel Taemin against him. The kiss was hot and deep and so slow and languid, Yibo felt like he was losing himself in the taste and feel of the other man.  
“Touch me,” Taemin said, after an eternity, pulling back. His eyes were dark and filled with promises that made Yibo’s mind spin. “You’re devouring me but you’re not touching me.”  
Yibo leaned his head back against the couch. “I can’t.”   
“Can’t?”   
“If I touch you now, I won’t ever stop.”  
A frown pulled Taemin’s brows together. “I don’t understand?”  
Yibo closed his eyes and wished he could explain. “You feel like the point of no coming back. Like, if I touched you, felt you under my hands, I’d lose myself in you completely. That, I’d genuinely want…” he shook his head. “Fuck, this is like a bad drama.”  
“What, talk to me?” Taemin was staring down at him, his face open and questioning. “Please, Yibo.” When Yibo closed his eyes, those fingers tangling in his hair moved to either side of his neck, easily tilting the other man’s head forward, giving him a little shake. “What?”  
“I’m sorry, Tae, this was a mistake.” Yibo took a shuddering breath. “A huge mistake.”   
Taemin stiffened like he’d just slapped him. Shock and surprise chased one another across his expressive face and he swung off Yibo’s lap, taking a step back.   
“Fuck,” he said, and it’s so raw. “Fuck this. Fuck you Wang Yibo.”  
“I’m sorry.” Yibo stood and before he could reach out to touch Taemin, he stepped back, shaking his head.   
“No, don’t touch me now.”   
“Please, Tae.” Yibo felt like shit, seeing how shook the other man was. “I fucked up. I shouldn’t have done this.”  
“You are damn right. Fuck. You asshole.” Taemin turned and walked a few paces towards the kitchen, before turning back. “The worst thing is? I really like you. A lot. And now you pull this shit. What is wrong with you?”  
Yibo bit his lip. He could taste Taemin.   
“I’m sorry. I’ll ring for a car to take you home. I had too much to drink. I can’t drive you home.”  
“It’s fine, I’ll do it myself.”   
Yibo watched, helpless as Taemin dug in his leather jacket’s pocket and placed a call. His expression was shuttered, his body turned slightly away from Yibo.   
“What’s the address?”  
Yibo told him and he relayed it to the dispatch girl.   
“What? How long?” Taemin’s fist tightened on the mobile and he looked like he wanted to smash it. “No, it’s fine. Nevermind.” He stood quietly for a moment before looking at Yibo.   
“They have no taxis available this side of the city. Everyone is over at the show. They won’t have anything available for the next three hours or more. She said all the other taxi services are as busy.”  
“Stay.” Yibo moved closer. “You can take the bed. I’ll sleep down here.”  
“Don’t be stupid. I’ll take the couch.” He put his phone down on the counter. “Fuck. This is so messed up.” He turned those big eyes on Yibo. “Was it me? Did I do anything wrong?”  
“No!” Yibo felt like his chest was tightening and he wrapped his arms around himself. “No, honestly. It’s not you. I know it sounds like I’m spinning you a line. It is wholly me. I’m an asshole.”  
“Then tell me what’s going on.”  
Yibo shook his head. “I, just…Tae, I’m so sorry.” He turned and picked up the ice cream tubs and walked into the kitchen, dumping them in the bin. “I’ll get you some bedding.”  
He walked upstairs and rummaged through the storage closets, eventually finding an extra duvet and cushions. He took it downstairs and made up the couch under Taemin’s withering stare.   
“There’s extra toothbrushes in the bathroom,” he said halfway up the stairs. “I’ll see you in the morning.”


	3. Xiao Zhan Wants his Didi to be happy

Xiao Zhan wants Didi to be loved   
He got ready for bed and crawled between the sheets, hyper aware of Taemin moving around in the bathroom, before padding soundlessly down the stairs in bare feet. The lights went off and Yibo lay in the darkness, listening to his own overly loud heartbeat. He felt awful and he hated himself for what he did to Taemin. The whole night replayed in his head, over and over. He saw the push and pull between them and he knew that it had been stupid of him to agree to Taemin coming over tonight. He thought he’d be able to say no to him and that was laughable in itself. He’d stipulated no sex, and then he went and lured him in and kissed him and then pushed him away. He didn’t blame Taemin one second for wanting to get away from him as fast as possible.   
Yibo groaned at his stupidity and pressed both hands to his eyes, trying to block out the sight of Taemin’s face hovering just above his before he kissed him. He was not going to get over this for a very long time. He’d been so fucking stupid. Xiao Zhan was going to laugh at him, when he told him how fundamentally he’d messed up. The thought of Xiao Zhan’s smiling face made him groan even louder. He was such a sucker for a pretty smile. His attraction to Xiao Zhan had been instantaneous. He loved the man’s laughter, his sense of humour. And contrary to what the world seemed to think, they weren’t lovers, even if they did play soulmates in the show. He looked up to Xiao Zhan as a consummate professional and his best friend in this business where people would rather stab you in the back to get ahead than remain friends.   
When Xiao Zhan had realised that Yibo was falling in love with him, he told him that he was not prepared to take things beyond friendship. They both had careers they had worked hard for and that he had to realise that being gay in an industry where it was such a stigma would mean the death of both their careers. He asked Yibo to go away and think about what meant and what sacrifices he was prepared to make. Yibo had been sick with dread and it had put such a fear in him, that he’d almost become entirely celibate. It had been over a year now since he’d been with anyone, since he’d said goodbye to Xiao Zhan, and he’d thrown himself into his work, playing with his bikes, motorcycle racing, his music, product shoots, and new shows. He liked his privacy and apart from promoting his projects online, he posted hardly anything personal on social media anymore. He couldn’t cope with the scrutiny. The netizens were ever watchful and being under public scrutiny made him feel ill.   
And then Taemin showed up, temptation made flesh. And he lost his mind.   
He buried his face in his pillow and swore, biting at it in anger. He was so stupid. He should have said no when his agent talked to him about doing the show. He should have just stayed away completely. 

It was the small hours of the morning when he jerked awake with shock. For a few seconds he had no idea where he was but then he saw a dark figure standing at the side of the bed. The figure swayed slightly in the darkness, as if standing was really difficult.   
“Taemin? Are you okay?”  
“Nightmare,” came the soft husky voice. “Can I sleep here?” He held up a pillow. “I brought my pillow.”  
As out of it as he was, Yibo smiled to himself. “Sure,” he said, his voice rough with sleep, moving to the other side of the bed, whilst lifting the covers.   
Taemin crawled into bed with a soft sigh. “So stupid, I know. I hate sleeping alone. Thank you.”  
Yibo turned towards him and prodded him onto his side. He wrapped an arm around his waist, not remotely surprised that Taemin wasn’t wearing a shirt.   
“There, now sleep. You’re safe.”  
“I’m sorry.” Taemin patted his hand where it lay against his waist. “I’ll be good, I promise.”  
“Shhh,” Yibo said, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. “Sleep. I’ve got you.”  
If anyone had told Yibo he’d fall asleep with Taemin in his arms, he wouldn’t have believed them. The gods weren’t that nice to anyone. 

An incessant ringing was coming from somewhere. Yibo stretched and became aware of someone else in the bed with him. Taemin was lying on his stomach, his head between the pillows, his left arm draped carelessly over Yibo’s waist as Yibo lay on his side, his body curved towards the older man. Their legs were tangled and when Yibo tried to move, Taemin muttered something and held tighter onto his waist.   
The ringing continued. It was his phone. Yibo swore under his breath and rooted for it. He’d left it charging on the bedside cabinet. He had to lever himself halfway across Taemin to reach it, jostling him.   
He got it eventually and fell back against the pillow. He answered without looking at the called ID.   
“Yibo! Did I wake you?” The voice on the other end was not who he was expecting at all.   
“Xiao Zhan? Why are you calling? Are you okay?”   
“Yes, I’m fine. I thought I’d check in on you. I heard some rumours.”  
Taemin muttered and pushed himself onto his elbows and frowned sleepily at Yibo. Yibo couldn’t help the smile on his face as he looked at Taemin. He looked soft and sweet and his hair was a crazy tangle. On impulse he yanked his arm, watching the usually poised man drop onto his side, letting himself be manhandled into a cuddle. Yibo knew he was screwing up. He knew having a half naked Taemin in his bed, like this, was a bad idea. Especially after last night.   
“Sorry, what, I didn’t catch what you said?” Yibo said into his phone.   
“Are you still in bed?”   
“XZ, it’s not even six in the morning here.”   
“Who?” Taemin jerked his chin towards the phone and his expression was sleepily jealous. “Who are you talking to?”  
There was a silence on the other side of the phone. “Yibo, do you have company? Who is it?” The sheer giggly delight in Xiao Zhan’s voice made Yibo groan. “WhatsApp video call, right now.”   
Yibo closed his eyes. He was so fucked. The phone vibrated in his hand and he accepted Xiao Zhan’s WhatsApp video call. Taemin pressed himself closer to Yibo’s side and mustered up a sexy smile for the camera. Then his eyes widened in shock.   
“Taemin?”  
“Xiao Zhan?”  
“Yibo!” Both of them.   
He closed his eyes. Of course they’d know one another. He was fucked.   
“So,” he said, into the silence. “Good morning?”  
“Is it?” Xiao Zhan was grinning at them. It looked like he was in a hotel room somewhere. He wore a t-shirt that’s been stretched out, leaving his collarbone exposed. His hair was long and messy and pulled back into a small bun behind his head. “I’m sorry, if I knew you had company I wouldn’t have called.” It was obvious he was lying and he was doing it anyway.   
“Zhan, huying, you’re lying. Who called you? Was it Kai? No, was it Taeyong?”  
“I can neither confirm nor deny…” But he was laughing. “They were just worried, Taemin. They didn’t hear from you last night. They worried Yibo might have kidnapped you. They said he was very intense before the show.”  
Taemin adjusted his position so he could stare up at Yibo before nodding. “Super intense. Afterwards he put me on his bike, kidnapped me and brought me back to his apartment. Then he fed me ice cream.”   
“I taught you well, padawan Yibo!” Xiao Zahn was laughing and gave them a thumbs up. “Well, I’m glad you’re both okay. I’ll let the guys know.”  
“Where are you, right now?” Yibo asked in an attempt to divert the uncomfortable conversation.   
“I don’t actually know? Somewhere with lots of trees and it’s really humid. I’ve lost track of the locations.”  
“You look skinny, Zhan. Are you eating?”  
“Yes, mother, I’m eating. I’m always eating.” There was a knock on the door behind Xiao Zhan and he looked over, speaking to someone behind him. “I have to go now. Take care, Yibo. Taemin, try not to break his heart. He’s not as tough as he pretends to be.”  
“Didi ai ni,” Yibo said, out of habit, because it always made Xiao Zhan laugh. He hung up to find Taemin watching him carefully.   
“Do you? Is that why you pushed me away last night?” Taemin moved away so he could lie on his side and look at Yibo. “Do you love him?”  
Yibo wasn’t ready for this but he wanted to fix whatever was wrong between them. “I do. I did.” He groaned and flung an arm over his eyes, lying back against the pillows. “It’s difficult, complicated. I’ve not really fallen in love with anyone before. I didn’t think I ever would. I mean, I love my Uniq brothers and we,” he cleared his throat, speaking from behind his arm. “You know, how it goes. You mess around. You learn things. You experiment. When I first met Xiao Zhan he was just so kind to me, so generous with his time. He was fast to pick up on how I started feeling about him. He made me realise that we could never be together in that way.”  
Taemin shifted, and before Yibo knew what he was doing, he was being straddled.   
“I want to look at you,” Taemin said, pulling his arm away from his face. “Talk to me. I’m here.”  
“Taemin,” Yibo wanted to reach up and pull that face down to his, kiss that long neck, bite that flawless stretch of skin from the dip of his collar bones to his shoulders. Yibo wanted to leave marks of ownership. The thought of sending Taemin out with his teeth marks on his skin made him groan and he bit his lip hard.   
“Fuck, Yibo, you cannot do this to me.”   
Yibo tried to wrap both his arms over his face but Taemin grabbed his wrists and pinned them easily above his head. His smirk was priceless.   
“I am stronger than you. So.” He jutted a chin. “Talk.”  
Yibo was tempted to buck him off, but he owed Taemin. He owed him an explanation for last night.   
“That’s it. I fell in love with my co-star and he was intelligent enough to point out that the risks weren’t worth it. And I listened. And it broke my heart. And we are still good friends, but nothing more.” Yibo licked his dry lips and he didn’t miss how Taemin’s gaze tracked the movement. He cleared his throat. “And now I have to think how I feel about you and talk myself out of starting anything because, us…” He shook his head, keeping hold of Taemin’s gaze. “We won’t work. We can’t risk it.”  
For the longest moment Taemin remained exactly where he was, slightly hunched over Yibo, staring down at him. A part of Yibo’s mind thought that he really quite liked this view.   
“That is the biggest load of rubbish I’ve ever heard in my life,” Taemin eventually ground out. He sat up so suddenly, letting go of Yibo’s wrists so fast, that he almost unseated himself. But then he leaned forward again, this time pressing both hands to Yibo’s chest. “You don’t get to fucking decide what’s I want and don’t want.”  
“Taemin,” Yibo said, wholly aware of how his body was reacting to having Taemin straddling him and bearing down on him with his full weight. The man was solid, for all his almost ephemeral beauty. “You have to know how dangerous this is. If anyone found out about us, if there was an us, you’d be blacklisted. Your agency would drop you.”  
“You think I care about that?”  
Yibo sat up, bringing his knees up behind Taemin to prevent him from falling over. He gripped both his wrists in one hand, and pressed them against his chest and gave Taemin a little shake.   
“I. Do. I care. You are so young, Taemin. So am I. We have our entire lives ahead of us. Do you think either of us wouldn’t hate the other if our careers ended because of this? Because of lust? You have to think about that.”  
“I just…” A muscle clenched in Taemin’s jaw and he flexed his wrists in Yibo’s grip and when Yibo didn’t let go of him, he sunk his head low. “Yibo, you need to listen to me. And maybe you’ll kick me out, after I tell you this but please.” They were so close, Yibo could feel Taemin shake. “You’ve been my crush for years. I swear if you make fun of me, I’ll stab you.” When Yibo didn’t so much as crack a smile, he went on. “I remember hearing about you. This frail kid who was going to take the world by storm. You joined Uniq and that was it. When I could, I checked up on you. I watched all your shows, your MVs and then last year, your show came out and you were this pristine beautiful man and I knew I had to do something, reach out somehow. I wanted to meet you. To see how you could be real. Meeting you last night for the first time, everything in me yearned. I was desperate for anything you were prepared to give me.” He lowered his lashes. “And you turned out to be sweeter than I could have imagined. When you look at me, it’s like you’re looking at something precious and I like that. It sounds messed up and I’m so sorry.” His smile was small and a wry twist of his full lips. “What struck me most about you, when we were alone here last night was that you were different. Here’s the thing about you Yibo. You didn’t grab. You didn’t want to own me, make me cry or beg. You didn’t want to hurt me or bend me over and fuck me. You didn’t ask anything of me, except to be myself.” His raised his eyes and tilted his head down a little, so he could stare into Yibo’s eyes. “No one has done that in a very long time, Yibo, and it shook me. I was wrong to try and seduce you. I’m sorry.”  
With his face so open and his expression so vulnerable, Yibo felt like he was falling deeper into like with this man huddled in his lap. “You had a crush on me?” His voice low. “Since I debuted? Taemin, why didn’t you reach out to me sooner?”  
“Honestly, You were seventeen, stupid boy. Can you imagine the amount of gossip that would have elicited? I am still older than you and I know how much damage being around me would have caused. But now, now that things are a bit different, and you’re no longer an innocent seventeen year old…” His smile was pure wickedness, and it made Yibo laugh.   
“I don’t think I would’ve known what to do with you anyway,” Yibo said. His own lips were now very close to Taemin’s. “But I do know what I want to do now.”  
“Oh god, please tell me you’re going to kiss me or I’m going to die.”  
And Yibo does just that, kissing him like he is the most gorgeous thing he’s ever had in his bed. Taemin just went utterly pliant in his hands and opened his mouth under Yibo’s ministrations. His lips were as soft as Yibo remembered and his mouth warm and wet. He groaned and lets go of Taemin’s wrists, reaching up to cup that cut jaw, briefly, trailing his fingers over the length of his neck, loving that his hands could span the length of it so easily. Taemin made a soft noise into his mouth and Yibo lightly, almost imperceptibly gripped his neck tighter. “Oh fuck, Yibo,” Taemin muttered against his lips, pulling back a little. Yibo still had his hand wrapped around Taemin’s neck when he looked into eyes. There was pure arousal there now, complete want. The heat in Taemin’s gaze felt like liquid fire running down through Yibo’s body.   
Slowly, because he wanted to see how Taemin reacted, he started touching him. He rang his fingers across his shoulders, barely touching, lightly over the expanse of that wide chest, along his lean sides. Taemin was breathing hard, like he’d run a marathon, and lips were parted. He watched as Yibo’s hands trailed along his skin, hesitate for the tiniest fraction at the waistband of his borrowed tracksuit before lightly, using only back of his nail, he traced the waistband’s entirety around to the back. He flexed his hands when the came to rest on Taemin’s waist, his numbs finding the low hollows there.   
“Taemin?” Yibo was breathing no less raggedly that the man above him. They were both hard and he wanted to do nothing more than see all of Taemin.   
The searing look Taemin gave him when he looked him in the face made his heart stutter. He could only groan and bury his face against the skin of the older man’s neck. He kissed and licked there, his teeth grazing the skin lightly.   
“If you tell me to leave,” Taemin said, his voice low and not quite his own. “I will do everything in my power to destroy you.” Yibo stilled, his gaze meeting the other man’s. He was mesmerised by this Taemin. He hovered above him, beautiful and dangerous, a sweet mixture of vulnerability and a viper’s strength. “Because you have to be insane if you think this,” here Taemin gestured between them, before dropping his hand against Yibo’s chest and grabbing his sleep shirt, and pulling. “Isn’t real and it’s something we’d be able to live without. I don’t care what you think. I want to make it work. Fuck everyone else.”  
Taemin tilted his head little and he looked feral, his lips swollen and his eyes so dark. And Yibo knew then that he’d move the heavens themselves to be with this man for as long as he was allowed.   
“Also,” Taemin said, snapping him out of his thoughts, with a sudden smirk curling around his full mouth. “How are you not naked yet?”  
Yibo made a sound of surprise when Taemin gripped his sleep shirt’s collar and just ripped it. He hummed at Yibo’s exposed skin and pulled the shirt off him, recklessly and uncaring if Yibo managed to get his arms out of the shirt. Taemin bent his head and Yibo felt his brain go numb as he placed hot wet kisses down Yibo’s neck, shoulders and down his chest. As he kissed Yibo’s skin, he lapped at it too, small kitten licks and Yibo was reminded of the ice cream spoon the night before and let out a groan.   
Taemin pressed his face against Yibo’s covered groin, nuzzling his erect cock, rubbing his jaw up and down the length. Yibo stayed very still, not wanting to stop him from whatever the fuck it was he was doing. As he watched, Taemin lifted himself up slightly so that he could get his hands around Yibo’s waist and underneath the elastic waistband of his sleep shorts. And then, he just pulled, flinging the offending item of clothing somewhere behind him.   
“Where’s the lube?”   
Yibo blinked. “Bedside cabinet.”  
Taemin seemed hesitant to take his eyes off Yibo. His gaze took in Yibo’s long length, his lithe form and muscled arms and smiled a slow very dangerous smile that went straight to Yibo’s cock. He quirked an eyebrow as he found the lube and saw how closely Yibo watched him back.   
“What?” It was a challenge with a little more teeth than Yibo was fully comfortable with.   
“You are beautiful.”  
Taemin moved to stand at the bottom of the bed again. The light was behind him, throwing interesting shadows over his body. Yibo watched, fascinated. He tossed the lube onto the bed next to Yibo’s thigh and then, ever the showman, he paused, letting Yibo take him in. And then he slowly stripped for Yibo. Keeping the younger man’s gaze he slowly ran a hand down the length of his neck, barely touching his skin, lower down, across the expanse of his muscled chest. Nails flick lightly across one nipple and Yibo wasn’t stupid, he could see that Taemin was doing this as much for himself as Yibo. His hand moved lower, tracking the cords of muscles outlined on his stomach to the waistband of the trousers but instead of pulling them off, both his hands moved over the soft fabric covering his groin, outlining his erect cock.   
Yibo groaned in frustration and the sound brought a slow smile to Taemin’s face. Hooking both thumbs under the waistband he slowly pushed his trousers down and as he did, he turned slightly, giving Yibo a full view of his body, from the crown of his head, the arch of his neck, the bow of his back, the dip above his ass, his long legs.   
Yibo couldn’t stand it anymore. He was fast and he was in good condition. He launched himself off the bed at Taemin just as he straightened. Taemin startled and Yibo grabbed his hips, loving how his hands looked like they belonged there.   
“A man has only that much patience,” he growled and, shooting Taemin a look of pure need, he sat on the edge of the bed. Without further preamble, he opened his mouth and took Taemin’s long hard cock into his mouth. If there is one thing Yibo knew right then, it was that he loved the feel of Taemin’s heat in his mouth, his hands in his hair, and the small gasps his tongue elicited from the man standing over him.   
Taemin seemed fascinated by what Yibo was doing, his gaze never leaving Yibo’s mouth as he worked his way up and down his length. He groaned when Yibo made his tongue concave and laved at the head, swirling it around the top. One of his hands moved to cup Yibo’s jaw, whilst his other hand gripped his hair tighter. Yibo understood what was being asked and he nodded. Taemin gave what sounded like a small disbelieving laugh before he started slowly, so slowly, rolling his hips, fucking himself into Yibo’s hot wet mouth. Yibo breathed through his nose, the hands resting on Taemin’s hips were definitely leaving bruises, but they were both too far gone to care that much.   
Remembering to open his throat and to keep breathing, Yibo leaned forward and using the length of his tongue, he flattened it along the long vein throbbing against his mouth and he pulled back, sucking as he went. Taemin moaned above him and a twist of pure pleasure ripped through Yibo, making him shudder.   
Taemin stared down at him in a daze, his thumb rubbing over Yibo’s wet mouth and for a long few seconds he did nothing and then he smiled.   
“My turn now.” And then he just lifted Yibo up and threw him back up the bed towards the headrest. Yibo felt his brain shut down at being manhandled like this and before his brain could get back to itself, Taemin was straddling him. The look Taemin threw him was a warning and he kept still, watching in disbelief as his cock disappeared into that full mouth. Taemin’s mouth was sinfully hot and lush as he worked his mouth around Yibo cock. He was making a lot of noise and Yibo, so used to having to be quiet, felt himself bite his wrist to stop himself from moaning.   
“Yibo.” Taemin pulled off him slowly, licking the head like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. “Yibo, look at me? Do you like what I’m doing?”  
Yibo nodded, mute.   
“I’d like to hear you.”  
Yibo dropped his head back against the bed. He was overwhelmed. His body felt like it was on fire. Taemin crawled the length of his body until they were face to face once more.   
“Hey,” he said. “I want to fuck you, so badly, you have no idea, but if you’d rather not…?”  
“No.” Yibo licked his lips. “No, I want you. It’s just, all the things I want to do to you. You make me not think clearly.”  
“Oh, now. This, this I like.” He bent down and kissed Yibo, slowly teasing his lips apart before deepening the kiss, claiming Yibo’s mouth and swallowing those little moans Yibo was making. “You taste so good, Yibo. You’re like a meal laid out just for me.”   
The kisses he trailed down Yibo’s neck were hot. He bit his earlobe and Yibo gasped, his hips lifting off the bed in answer. “Fuck, Tae,” he muttered against his lover’s hair.   
Taemin worked his way down Yibo’s body again and as he did, he spoke, softly, reverently and Yibo felt he was losing his mind. “I love the way you move on stage. I love how carelessly beautiful you are, how shamelessly elegant. I’ve wanted to take you and break you out of that shell of cool aloofness you sometimes hide behind. I wanted you in my bed, your mouth swollen and raw from my kisses, your body aching because I claimed it.”  
“Taemin, please.” Yibo raised his head just as Taemin took him in his mouth again and he swore loudly. He tried to keep his hips from thrusting but Taemin moaned when his cock pushed further into his mouth and then Yibo lost himself to the sensation of having Taemin suck him down, until his nose pressed against the base of his cock.   
He blindly groped for the lube. “Enough, Tae, please.”  
“So unbelievably hotl,” Taemin sounded rough and he was trembling. “Are you sure you want this?”  
The only answer Yibo could give him was pushing the lube at him. “Do it. Start with two fingers.”  
Taemin looked like he wanted to say something else but then the hot look Yibo shot him shut him up. He inclined his head and pulled Yibo closer, lifting his hips and pushing his legs further apart. “So beautiful, for me.” He dragged his fingers down Yibo’s hardness, making him gasp and writhe at the pressure. He kept his fingers at the base of Yibo’s cock and dipped his thumb lower, tracing his rim. He pulled back, poured some lube into his hand and slicked it over his own cock, the wrist movement lazy and practiced. He watched Yibo watch him, and smiled a long slow smile that promised terrible things. Then, using the same hand he fondled Yibo’s ass, running his fingers up and down the crack, before probing between his cheeks. Yibo let out a shuddering gasp as Taemin pushed his fingers into him and he arched off the bed, his eyelids fluttering. Taemin’s full attention was on what he was doing to Yibo, as he worked his fingers further into him, widening them, sliding, preparing him.   
Yibo tried not to think about how practiced Taemin was at this. He gave a ragged moan when Taemin’s fingers brushed against his prostrate but then withdrew almost immediately. Only to come back and tease him again. Taemin leaned forward, wonderfully supple, and suckled softly on Yibo’s cock as he pushed in a third finger. Yibo stilled, for a moment only, before he gave a ragged gasp and started rolling his hips, driving himself down onto Taemin’s fingers.   
“God yes, Yibo, like this. You are so beautiful. Fuck yourself for me.” Yibo reached for his cock, wrapping his long fingers around himself, he ran a thumb over the slit and moaned loudly. He was burning up from the inside out and knowing that Taemin was watching him, that it was Taemin’s fingers inside him, was becoming almost too much to cope with.   
“I need you, Tae,” he said, doing his best to enunciate each word. “To fuck me.”  
“Fuck yes, I thought you’d never ask.”  
Before Yibo had time to register what was happening, Taemin flipped him over and pushed him onto his knees. He felt Teamin’s hands on his back, pulling at his hair, forcing his head back to steal a kiss. For a moment Yibo was alone on the bed as Taemin readjusted his stance behind him, before sinking down on his knees and aligning himself with Yibo. Slowly, giving him a chance to get used to him, Taemin pushed his way into Yibo.   
“God, you are still so tight, baby. I love feeling you around me. I’m not going to be able to live without this feeling.” He slid home and exhaled loudly. “Fuck, Yibo. You are so gorgeous.” He pressed kisses against Yibo’s back whilst he slowly ground into his ass, using all those hours of training on the dance floor to drive his partner crazy. It was a game two people could play and as he rolled his hips, Yibo swore under his breath and answered it with a heavy slow roll of his own, which had him almost passing out from pleasure.   
Taemin wrapped an arm around Yibo’s waist and started fucking him in earnest. Yibo disliked being pummelled but this, this was something else altogether. With every drag of his cock inside him, Taemin somehow managed to erase all memory of other partners. Now there was only Taemin, his breath, his hands, his body sliding against him, his lips whispering filthy things in his ear, telling him the things he wanted to hear. How Taemin wanted to ride his cock, kiss him slow and deep, utterly wreck him, mark him up so everyone would know he belonged to Taemin.   
Taemin pulled Yibo upright so that they were both standing on their knees. “Touch yourself,” Taemin said, slowly fucking into him, dragging his cock against the spot that made Yibo want to scream. “Show me.”  
Yibo reached for himself, and gave himself a lazy tug. He was dripping and wet and he didn’t care. He used his own fluids to slick up his cock and worked himself the way he liked best, the slow roll of his wrist making him gasp, knowing that Taemin was watching him over his shoulder.   
Taemin hissed and bit down on his shoulder. “Oh god, that is so sexy.” He wrapped his own hand around Yibo’s and laced their fingers together. The sensation of having two hands on his cock at the same time was incredible. A heavy shuddering breath spilled over his lips and he pressed Taemin’s other hand to his abdomen.   
“I’m so close, Tae. Please.”  
“Together?”  
The question surprised him, and he nodded against the lips pressed against his ear.   
If Yibo thought Taemin had been holding back on him before, he’d been right. Taemin’s stamina was insane. He drove himself into Yibo, never purposefully seeking to hurt, but determinedly chasing his own orgasm, and if he dragged Yibo with him, by pushing him to breaking point, then so be it. Yibo worked his cock harder and swore when he felt the tightening low in his abdomen. He sensed Taemin’s own climax growing. His thrusts were less measured and more ragged. Yibo rolled his head back so it could lie against Taemin’s shoulder.   
“Watch,” he muttered, pressing a sloppy kiss to Taemin’s jaw, as he came. And it’s as if seeing Yibo come is what pushed Taemin over the edge. He swore softly, fluently in Korean, and arched his back as he thrust into Yibo’s ass, his orgasm crashing through him, leaving him breathless and wrung out.   
Yibo wrapped an arm backwards around Taemin’s waist and toppled them sideways onto the bed. They lay together, for some time, just breathing raggedly together.   
“I have to move,” Taemin said after a while.   
“Me too.” Yibo started laughing. “We made a mess.”  
Taemin nosed the back of Yibo’s neck. “We did. I’m going to have a shower. Come with me?”  
Taemin pulled out of Yibo with a groan and rolled his shoulders before pushing up off the bed and pulling Yibo with him. Yibo staggered a little as a cramp threatened to spasm in his calf but Taemin wrapped an arm around him, holding him steady.   
“I like your shower,” Taemin said, spinning the taps whilst caging Yibo between his arms against the wall. “You can fit a squad in here.”  
Yibo was distracted by how close they were, how undeniably languid he felt after their session. He tugged Taemin closer still, uncaring of the mess on his skin, and started placing kisses along his jaw line, nibbling sweetly along until he found his lips. He kissed him quietly, loving the feel of the remarkably soft lips against his, how Taemin seemed a little surprised by the kisses, before pressing their lips together more forcefully, encouraging Yibo to kiss him harder. He opened his mouth and allowed Yibo to bite and lick at mouth until he went completely pliant in his Yibo’s arms. Yibo tugged him into the shower, all the while kissing him.   
The cascade of warm water felt like heaven as it rained down on them. This time Yibo pressed Taemin against the wall and let his hands wander freely over hid body, pulling Taemin’s hair back so he could just watch his beautiful face gasp out his name under the water.   
Yibo felt drugged on Taemin and Taemin seemed happy to be adored. He stood quiet as Yibo washed his hair, then his own, before soaping their bodies. He reached for Yibo, as if it was essential that they were in constant touch, and looked a little stunned when Yibo didn’t shrug his hand off his hip. Instead he leaned close and kissed him wherever he could reach.   
He turned the water off after what felt like the longest shower ever, before finding dry towels for them. Taemin watched Yibo dry himself and the way he was staring at the other man, made Yibo wonder what exactly was going through his head.   
“Breakfast?” He asked, in an effort to get him to speak, careful not to pry. “I’m starving.”  
Taemin’s eyes were a little unfocussed when he looked at Yibo, his mind clearly elsewhere, but he gave him a soft smile and a brief nod. Yibo felt his stomach plummet. Something in him told him that this was it. This was how it was all going to end. He was tempted to say something, to reach out to Taemin, to do something to make him stay, but he knew better. Instead, he gave a solemn nod, resolving not to make a big scene.   
“Just grab anything in the wardrobe that will fit,” he said, as he walked into the bedroom. He dressed in a pair of his oldest jeans and a Henley t-shirt so disreputable, it had holes on the elbows.   
In the kitchen he looked through the cupboards and decided to ring the restaurant to send food up for them. He ordered most of what was available because he wasn’t sure what Taemin wanted and specifically asked for a pot of hot chocolate too.   
He was fiddling with his phone, checking his feed, when Taemin got downstairs. He was dressed in the same jeans as the night before and one of Yibo’s t-shirts. Yibo felt dizzy seeing Taemin wearing his clothes. He put his phone on the counter and walked over to stand in front of him.   
“Hey,” he said, kissing the side of his mouth lightly. “Are you okay?”  
“Yeah, I’m just…” Taemin’s hand fluttered and he moved away from Yibo to go stand at the large windows overlooking the city. “I’m not used to getting up this early.”  
“Yeah, XZ was very mean to call us that early.”  
“Do you love him?”  
The question took the wind from Yibo’s sails and he tried covering by tidying the cushions on the couch they’d tossed on the floor the night before but stopped when Taemin grabbed his wrist and turned him around to look at him.   
“I asked you a question.”  
“If you asked me six months ago if I loved him in a romantic way, I would have said yes.”  
“But you don’t love him now?”  
“No, I still love him. As a friend, as a brother. I admire him greatly but I realised what I felt for him was something like infatuation. Not healthy, for all parties concerned.” Yibo frowned at him. “Taemin, you asked me about this before, this morning. What’s going on?”  
Taemin held out Yibo’s watch. “You left this in the bathroom.” He flipped it over so he could read the inscription on the back. “Y, you’ll always be my constant, all my love XZ.”  
Yibo took the watch from Taemin and ran his thumb over the inscription before slipping it into his pocket. His throat felt thick with unspoken words. He was confused. He’d not thought about the inscription in months, barely thought about the dinner when Xiao Zhan gave it to him. It felt like a lifetime ago.   
The doorbell rang and he went to let the waiter in with the trolley of food, relieved for the small reprieve.   
“Come,” he said once he slipped the man a gratuity and he left, quietly shutting the door behind him “Let’s eat.”  
“I’m not sure I want breakfast.”  
“Taemin, sit down and eat. I can hear your stomach growling.” Yibo scowled at him. “Stop being such an asshole diva, goddamn it.” He turned his back on Taemin and started unloading the trolley onto the breakfast bar. “I got croissants, American style pancakes, there’s porridge. I got you a pot of chocolate. There’s also fruit, yogurt, muesli.”  
He ignored Taemin where he stood by the window, his arms wrapped around himself. He dished himself some pancakes, fruit and honey. It was good. He was famished. It took a full five minutes for Taemin to sit in the same chair he sat in the night before. He put two croissants on his plate and reached for the pot of hot chocolate but Yibo was already pouring a cup. “It’s the good stuff too. You can dip the croissant in it. It’s thick and gorgeous.”  
They ate in silence. Yibo stole glances at how fastidiously Taemin ate but even so, he had a curl of dark chocolate on the corner of his mouth. On impulse he leaned over, gripped Taemin’s chin in his and licked the chocolate off his lip.   
“Hmm, tasty.”  
Taemin stilled under his stare, before eating the last piece of croissant. “I’ve got practice today. We’re doing a tv show tonight.”  
“I’ll drive you over to the house. Do you have the address?”  
Taemin looked genuinely surprised. “Why?”  
“Why what?”  
“Why bother driving me? I can get a car to take me.”  
“Because I want to? And it’s no bother?”  
Taemin’s frown didn’t go away. “I’m sure you’ve got stuff to do today, I won’t take up more of your time.”  
“Fuck me, Taemin. I said I’d take you to your house so can you just let me fucking take you to your house? It isn’t a bother!” Yibo surprised himself with his outburst and it clearly surprised Taemin too because he stared at him as he’d hit him.   
“Don’t fucking shout at me!”  
“Then why are you being so fucking annoying! I told you it’s not bother to drive you, goddamn it.”  
“Because I don’t want to be…” Taemin flung back from the breakfast bar. “Fuck this. I’m leaving. Where are my shoes?”  
Yibo watched in utter confusion as Taemin sat on the floor to pull on his boots, hunting around the couch for his phone and pocketing it.   
“You can keep the helmet,” he said as he shrugged into his jacket. He hesitated at the door before turning around and walking back to where Yibo stood. “I’m sorry. Thanks for everything.” He kissed him, hot and desperate before turning and slamming out of the apartment.   
Yibo stared after him. What the actual fuck was that?

Yibo went through his day in a daze. He met with his agent, he got his schedule for the next two weeks. He was pleased to see that he had the weekends off, as requested. There were several photoshoots and interviews with magazines and a tv show or two.   
But he felt distant, weird, removed from everything around him, like everything was happening to someone else.   
He let himself be shepherded around by his agent’s assistant who had the time of her life bossing him around. They went to a photoshoot and she apologised on his behalf to the photographer saying he’d been out the night before performing at a show. They put him make-up, gorgeous clothes he would have been aware of the day before, but today they felt like sackcloth. The photographer tutted only a little, the stylist loved how he looked so distant and sad and arranged the set to make him look like he was pining. Yibo didn’t care. He followed the instructions he was given, on autopilot and when the shoot was over, they bundled the clothes into the car and he was taken home.   
The apartment had been cleaned in his absence and there was food in the fridge. He ordered pizza instead. He put something on in the background and progressively got drunker as the night went on. He passed out on the couch and woke up in the small hours of the morning, dragging himself to bed.   
He got up the next morning, went through the motions, did an interview that was part photoshoot, talking about his new series, his music and his appearance at the concert and the song he did with Taemin. They showed a clip and he found himself thinking that they looked really good together on stage. The interviewer asked him if he’d consider collaborating with Taemin or with SuperM as a group and he found himself smiling and saying, of course, if their schedules could one day align.   
Throughout the week after he saw Taemin, Yibo caught himself staring at his number on his phone. All it would take was to press the dial button. They could talk and he could find out what was going on, what had gone wrong that morning. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to be the weird guy that Taemin had fun with, who wouldn’t leave him alone. They were both professionals.  
It was after midnight on the Friday night when someone buzzed his apartment. He stumbled downstairs and peered blearily at the screen.   
“Who?”  
“It’s me, asshole. Let me up so I can beat you up.”  
Yibo peered closer at the screen. There was an anime character standing in the foyer, glaring at him. No, not an anime character. It was Taeyong. The fuck?  
“Fine.” He keyed in the code and sent the lift down. When it came back up, Taeyong strode out and into his apartment like his own personal hurricane.   
“What did you do?” He spun to look at Yibo. “What the fuck did you do to Taemin?”  
“What? Nothing! He left here and…is he okay?”  
“No.” Taeyong stalked towards him. He was not as tall as Yibo but Yibo felt himself backing up and away from the smaller man. “No, he’s very much not okay. I told you, you asshole, to be nice.”  
“I was nice. He just left. We were having breakfast and then I told him I’d drive him back home and he freaked out and left.”  
“And you let him?”  
“Yes?”  
“The gods preserve me from stupid men.” Taeyong was standing on his tip toes to stare into Yibo’s eyes. He looked furious. “Taemin is a mess. He’s not spoken to any of us about whatever it is that happened here. He’s like a goddamn zombie. What did you do to him?”  
“I fed him, we kissed.” Yibo swallowed with difficulty. “He had a nightmare in the middle of the night and he crawled into bed with me. We,” He avoided Taeyong’s piercing gaze. “We were intimate and then something happened, I don’t know what and he just, he just fucking left.”  
Taeyong smirked and he prodded a finger into Yibo’s chest. Yibo winced and grabbed at his finger, snatching his hand and pushing it aside in irritation.   
“Not good enough, huying. You didn’t call him or go after him.”  
“Slamming out of my apartment made it pretty obvious he’s not interested.”  
“Fuck me.” Taeyong suddenly sagged against him, taking Yibo unawares. He made a little noise of surprise at the small man leaning against him, but before he could react, Taeyong was straightening. He used Yibo’s chest to push himself off and away. He stalked further into the apartment. His hair was wild and his mascara looked a mess, like he’d been rubbing his eyes. “I can’t imagine how you both have stayed alive for this long.”  
“I have no idea what is going on,” Yibo said. He wished he didn’t sound so cold, so aloof. But this is how he dealt with situations where he felt overwhelmed and wasn’t in control. “What are you doing here, Taeyong?”  
“Yonghi.”  
“What?”   
“Call me Yonghi. My friends call me Yonghi.”  
“And we’re friends now?”  
“Unless you want to be my enemy?” Taeyong smirked at him and he looked like a fierce elf. “You would hate to have me for an enemy. Everyone also misjudges me.”  
“No, I’m happy to call you, er, Yonghi.”  
“Good, good.” Taeyong sat down on the couch. “So, how do we fix it?”  
“Fix it?”  
“Taemin never said you were slow. This is going to be difficult.” Taeyong pressed two thumbs to the bridge of his nose. “How do we get the both of you talking again, is what I’m saying.”  
“He doesn’t want to see me,” Yibo said, trying not to be offended for being called slow. And what? Tae spoke to his brothers about him? “He made that very clear when he left.”  
“Did you try and call him? Text him?”  
“Well, no. I’m not fucking dense, okay? I know he doesn’t want to see me. Or hear from me.”  
“Did he open those big lush lips of his and say that, Yibo?” Taeyong suddenly jumped up again and Yibo took a step back on reflex. “Did he walk up to you and tell you not to call him? Did he ask you to leave him alone?”  
“Not quite.”  
“Then what did he do?”  
“He kissed me. And said, thanks for everything.”  
Taeyong visibly winced. “Yeah, that must have hurt. But, fuckit. He’s halfway in love with you anyway. He’s being an idiot. So are you. Do you like him?” Tayong was standing right in Yibo’s personal space again, staring up at him. “Like, do you like him like him?”  
“It’s not that easy. It’s complicated.”  
“No, it’s not. In our world, where we’re idols, complications come when people are stupid and do stupid things. Our relationships we manage to build with people we care about are treasured and never ever exposed. Taemin has never ever been like this. He is moping. He’s lost weight. In a week, Yibo. You know how dangerous that is. He’s only left the house to do filming. He’s banned me, ME, from our room and he’s just lying there, watching that fucking show and your music videos.”  
“What.”  
“Jesus fuck on a stick. Taemin is IN LOVE with you, you dumb idiot. If you like him even a little bit, you have to go tell him. Please. For my sanity. I need my clothes. And my games and my hair products.”  
“Taemin.” There was a rushing noise in his head. “You’re mistaken.”  
“I swear on my mother’s life. On MY life. Please, just do something.” The last bit is said in a whine and Taeyong crumples onto the chair overly dramatically. “Please, I need my bed back. Sharing with Kai and Lucas is like being around Great Danes who love to cuddle. I mean, I know I’m hot, but honestly, being passed around between the two of them like a party favour…oh who am I kidding. I love it. But I still want to sleep in my own bed.”  
Yibo felt like he was aeons behind the hurricane talking to him. He put a hand over Taeyong’s mouth to shut him up. The man went very still under his hand.   
“How’d you get here?”   
“A car dropped me off.”  
“Give me five minutes.”  
Yibo sprinted upstairs and pulled on clean jeans and a fresh shirt. He found his boots and pulled those on too. He pulled out two of his leather jackets and thundered down the stairs.   
“Put this on,” he said shoving the leather jacket at a gaping Taeyong. “Hope you don’t mind riding on my bike.”  
Taeyong looked confused. “Now?”  
“Now. Put on your shoes.” He pushed the helmet Tae had worn into Taeyong’s arms. “Come on, lets go.”  
Taeyong seemed both thrilled and terrified in equal measures as Yibo got him to mount the bike behind him. Like Taemin he had to encourage him to put his hands around his waist and after he gunned the bike and turned out of the garage, Taeyong tightened his grip with a delighted yell.   
“Oh my fuck, this is so hot.”  
“Where are we going?”   
Yibo listened to the instructions Taeyong shouted at him and in less than ten minutes they pulled up to a huge mansion with security guards and an electronic gate. Tayong raised his visor. “It’s okay, guys, it’s me.”   
They were buzzed in and Yibo pulled up the circular driveway to the front of the house. He got off and turned to help Taeyong off but the smaller man hopped off easily, pulling his helmet off, his face delighted.   
There were very few lights on in the house and as Yibo pushed his way in, carrying Taeyong in his wake, he took a moment to survey the place. There were several rooms leading off the entrance foyer, and stairs leading to a first floor.   
Without waiting, he took the stairs two at a time, only peripherally aware that Taeyong was keeping up with him, a wide grin on his face.   
“Taemin!” He shouted when he came to the landing. “Taemin. Come the fuck out, right now.”  
Taeyong seemed to be quivering with excitement and he was clasping his hands together in delight. Just as Yibo turned towards doors opening he caught sight of a figure he would recognise in the dark.   
Tae was a mess. It looked like he hadn’t slept all week. Yibo was horrified to see that Tayong had been right. Tae had somehow managed to drop a lot of weight since he’d seen him. His track pants hung very low on his hips and his cheekbones and jaw were sharper than before. He stood at the end of the passage and the other members of Super M had come out of their respective rooms to see what the noise was about.   
“Taeyong, what the fuck is he doing here?” Kai said pushing forward, Lucas right behind him. “Are you out of your mind bringing him here?”  
Yibo didn’t back away from either of them and basically stared through them, watching Taemin. Lucas towered over him.   
“Huying, I don’t think you should be here.”  
Yibo ignored him. He side-stepped the hand grabbing for him and easily ducked under Kai’s swing. The training he did for various roles and his dance moves easily helped him evade them and before he knew it, his movements had brought him to stand in front of Taemin.   
“We need to talk,” Yibo said, not unkindly, taking Taemin’s wrist and pulling him into the room. He locked the door behind him and stood with his back against it, watching Taemin. There were dark circles under his eyes and they looked bruised and red. He looked so frail and small right then, completely not the sexy idol or the sweet boy in his bed, or the demanding sex god making him lose his mind. Without giving it any thought, he pulled Taemin into a hug and just held onto him. It took an age for Taemin to respond. His hands crept tentatively around Yibo’s waist, underneath his leather jacket and he tucked his head into the nape of his neck. Taemin was shaking so hard in Yibo’s arms that Yibo felt that he was the only thing holding Taemin together right then.   
Yibo had no idea how long they stood like that. A minute, five minutes, an hour. Eventually Taemin pulled away and padded to his bed. He sank down onto it, sitting buddha style, his back straight and graceful.   
“Okay,” he said, his voice raw as if he’d been screaming. “Talk.”  
Yibo shrugged out of his jacket and toed off his boots after unlacing them. “Is this Taeyong’s bed?” He asked gesturing at the other bed. “Can I sit here?”  
Taemin nodded dully, his expression almost pained. “Sure.”  
“Tae.” Yibo sat down gingerly. “Tae, what happened?”  
“What do you think happened, Yibo?”  
“We had sex, we made love, we kissed. I got you breakfast. Then you left.”  
“That’s what you remember?”  
“Yes?”  
“So you don’t remember me giving you Xiao Zhan’s watch?” Taemin leaned forward and tears glistened in his eyes. “The watch that has a fucking declaration of love inscribed on the back? You lied to me. You fucking lied, Wang Yibo. You, I told you. I told you how I felt about you. And you told me you didn’t love him and yet, there’s the watch. His called you his constant, Yibo. How the fuck is that something you call someone who’s just a friend? Also, that watch is pretty fucking expensive. Not just something you give to no one important.”  
“The watch?” Yibo frowned. “You thought it was a declaration of love?”  
“Don’t. Please just don’t play me for a fool, Yibo. Honestly. I didn’t think I’d fall for you. I thought you’d be different. And you were. You were sweet and kind and generous. And you lied.”  
“I didn’t lie.” Yibo slid off the bed until he was in front of Taemin, on his knees. He grabbed the hands that were so restless in his. “Xiao Zhan and I are the best of friends. I told you. I loved him, once, in a way that made me ache. I wanted his attention and I went out of my way to get it. But, and here’s what I need you to realise, Taemin, that is over. I got over it. He is very important to me. If he called me in the middle of the night and he needed my help, I would run to him. He saved me from myself. I will always be grateful to him for that, for allowing me to learn from him. That watch? It was a gift from him to me. It was given in friendship and it was a joke. I am his constant.” He saw the narrowing in Taemin’s eyes and he held onto his hands harder. “Pain the in ass.”   
Taemin stared at him, letting that sink in. “What?”  
“I’m his constant pain in the ass. I nagged him all the time. I was completely ridiculous and he was kind. And now we’re friends. And that is it.” Yibo leaned forward and pressed his lips to the back of Taemin’s hand which had tightened its grip on his. “I swear it on everything I hold sacred.”  
“Your bike,” Taemin said.   
“What?”   
“Swear it on your bike. I know how much you love that thing.”  
“I, Wang Yibo, solemnly swear, on the love of my beloved bike, that Xiao Zhan and I are only friends. I further swear, that I am desperate to kiss Lee Taemin, for as long as he’d let me.”  
“You like me?”  
“Fuck, Taemin, how can you even ask that?” Yibo gave up all sense of pretence now and climbed onto the bed, pushing Taemin up against the headboard, straddling him. “Look at me. Look me in the eyes so you can see it when I tell you. No, in fact, give me your hand.” He grabbed Taemin’s hand and shoved it under his shirt, pushing it flush over the skin of his heart. “Lee Taemin, I think I’m in danger of falling for you completely. I spent this whole week in a state of anxiety because I thought meeting you would be enough, that I would be able to walk way after our concert. And then you came home with me, and you flirted with me and you were so beautiful and sweet and when you crawled into bed with me, I knew I was lost. Then,” he leaned forward so that their faces were centimetres apart. “Then you did terrible things to me and you broke me and spoiled me for everyone else.”  
“Me?” Taemin’s eyes were huge, but there was a grin threatening on his lips. “Are you sure? I know you had doubts, about being with someone.”  
“I still do. But there is no way I’m walking away from you now and what could be between us.”  
“Even if we break up? What would you do?”  
Yibo thought for a moment. “I’d let you go. But not after I fought for you. Taemin, sure, I mean, we went hot and heavy in a blink of an eye. But I think what we’ve got is something special. I would like the chance to really get to know you, properly. And we can take it from there. See how things go.”  
“I’m sorry. I acted like an idiot.” He smiled up at Yibo. “Forgive me?”  
Yibo pressed his lips against Taemin’s and for a moment, they stayed like that, before Yibo moaned and deepened the kiss, his hands cupping Taemin’s face, holding his still, as he plundered his soft mouth mercilessly.   
Taemin’s hands fluttered and came to rest on Yibo’s hips, before sliding up under his shirt. His short nails scratching Yibo’s heated skin brought a moan to the man above him and he rolled his hips. He looked down at Taemin and grinned.   
“Are you going to be naked at any stage in the next few days?”  
“Why?” Taemin frowned at him.   
“So I can do this.” He tilted his hand and started licking and biting mark’s into Taemin’s collarbones, making the man gasp in surprise, his hips stuttering in shock at the unexpectedness of it all. He ran the pads of his thumbs over Taemin’s erect nipples and leaned up to lick the shell of his ear and bite and suck on the earlobe.   
Taemin went completely boneless under his ministrations and Yibo tried to hold onto his sanity as he discovered new ways of making the older man moan and mutter wantonly under him. He stood and stripped hastily, helping Taemin with his track pants. This time round there was no teasing, no finesse. He needed to feel as much of Taemin as soon as possible. They writhed together, wildly trading sloppy wild kisses, as their hands searched, traced planes of muscle, curves and ridge, finding new ways to drive each other mad.   
Yibo got hold of both of them, and he sat up, breathing heavy, mesmerised by how they looked together. Taemin watched, his pupils wide and his mouth looking like he’d been ravaged. He mutely handed Yibo a tube of lube and watched as Yibo slicked them both up, He gave a wild cry when Yibo ran a finger over both their heads, spreading the lube and their juices together.   
“You’re so gorgeous, Tae. We fit together so well. Watch.” Yibo directed his gaze to what he was doing to them, before turning his eyes back to Tae. “Can you see what you do to me? I think you maybe like it a little too?”  
And because it was Yibo and he liked showing off, just a little bit, he bent forward and sucked them both into his mouth. Taemin swore, loudly, and punched the wall in shocked surprise.   
“You…” he said in a shocked voice. “That was insane. I’m flexible, but I’ve never seen anyone do that.”  
Yibo smirked. “You can try next time. Taste us?” He was still working his hand around them both and Taemin leaned forward, kissing him slow and deep, tasting them both on Yibo’s tongue.   
“Fuck me, you are so hot.”  
Yibo’s smirk made him laugh and he lay back, arching his back and rolling his hips. “This is so good. I love feeling your hands on me.” In answer Yibo rolled his wrist, knowing what he loved doing to himself and watched Taemin respond to it. “Next time,” he says, focussing with difficulty on Yibo. “Next time, I want you to ride me. I want to see you come apart on my cock.”   
Yibo groaned, pushing them together harder and faster. “I need to see you come for me, Tae,” he said, his breathing ragged. “Please, baby. Just for me. Show me what you’ve got. I need you.”   
Taemin muttered at the soft needy words spilling out of Yibo’s mouth and arched his back off the bed, almost unseating Yibo as his orgasm hit him hard and fast. Yibo pumped his wrist faster and gasped when his own cum spilled over his hand, onto Taemin’s stomach.   
“Oh fuck me,” he said, leaning forward, his breathing ragged. “That was intense.”   
Taemin gave a small laugh and reached out to pat his thigh. His gaze widened in surprise when he looked up to see Yibo look at his own hand, at their joint come, before carefully, with great consideration, take a tentative lick.   
“Fuck, Yibo, don’t do that.”   
“Hmm, it’s nice. It tastes like us.” Yibo licked his fingers, holding Taemin’s eyes with his until Taemin flushed wildly.   
“You are too much, I can’t even stand to look at you right now,” he said but he grabbed Yibo’s hand and pulled him in for a kiss, humming wontedly against his mouth. “You’re right. We do taste nice, together.”

Two Months Later   
“Yibo, a courier dropped this off for you.”  
Yibo pushed away from where he was leaning against the doorjamb of the studio waiting for SuperM to stop recording.   
“What is it?”  
“Don’t know. Want me to open it for you?” His agent’s assistant, he forget the guy’s name, held the bag out to him.   
Yibo hesitated briefly before he took the bag from him. He walked to the couch and sat down. He undid the seal holding the bag shut, and saw the stylish black box inside. He put the bag aside so he could open the box. When he did, a laugh started in his belly and he burst out laughing. He took out the watch, a new Breitling. He turned it over.  
To Yibo, I love that we fit together so well. I’m glad you’re mine. All my love, your Tae


End file.
